


Bloody Hands (WT'18 No.2)

by TheHirsch



Series: Superhero AU [2]
Category: Almost Human, And There Is Hope!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, F/M, Female Protagonist, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Major Original Character(s), Original Character(s), Serious Injuries, Whump, Whumptober, Whumptober 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 15:07:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17962868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHirsch/pseuds/TheHirsch





	Bloody Hands (WT'18 No.2)

Vashchenko sighed. It was always the same shit, you fix one line in the code - ten more errors. She stood up to open the window to let some air in, even though LA smog couldn’t be considered ‘fresh air’. She turned down the volume of her music to don’t annoy neighbours.  
She sighed and leaned back in her chair, staring at the computer monitor. Subconsciously her hand reached for the mug, that was standing to her left. She tilted it, but no coffee touched her lips. Disappointed, she stared into the empty mug. She debated whether or not it was worth it to get up to make another round, or maybe it was time to sleep. Seven in the morning was a great time to go to bed.  
Suddenly a crack, a shot, somewhere up the street. And another one. And another. Vashchenko was startled, immediately she was fully awake, adrenaline rushing through her veins, as she made her way to the window. She saw a bright blue pickup truck, going around the corner with screeching tires. On the pavement there was a boy, his bright yellow shirt turning red. He fell to the ground.  
The russian programmer bolted out of the room to wake her friend.  
“Nata, someone was shot!” she yelled. Her voice sounded differently when she spoke Russian.  
Jurow, already sat upright in her bed. “Call 911!”  
Jurow was already out the door, grabbing her bag once she was down the stairs.  
“Yes,” Vashchenko was agitated, with shaking hands she grabbed her phone and dialed the emergency number. Slowly she followed Jurow on the street, while answering the agent’s questions.  
Jurow had kneeled down next to the wounded boy, putting on gloves. He had gone straight into shock. He had a gunshot wound in his abdomen and was bleeding heavily. She pressed down on the wound with both hands.  
“They say they have police and an ambulance coming,” Vashchenko said, her voice still shaking.  
“This goddamn gang war is getting on my nerves,” Jurow said to Vashchenko, acting like having the hand on a young man’s GSW was a normal thing to do in the morning.  
Vashchenko just nodded.  
“Look at him, his life barely started,” she looked down at him and cursed in Russian.  
“Do you think you can assist me?” she asked. “Get me a hemostatic dressing. Black package with yellow writing.”  
Vashchenko digged in and found what the ex-military-doctor had asked for. Before she actually ripped open the package she showed it Jurow, who nodded.  
Vashchenko handed Jurow the applicator, Jurow let go of the wound applying the agent inside the wound and further spreading it as she slowly pulled outwards. The powder would react with the blood, forming clots and hopefully stop the bleeding.  
“Hand me a gauze,” Jurow demanded.  
Vashchenko did so.  
And while Jurow pressed down on the wound to let the powder do its magic suddenly they heard a man clear his throat behind them.  
Jurow turned around for a second.  
“What the hell happened?” it was Kennex. After work he had stopped by in a baker shop to bring some breakfast for the ladies.  
“Drive-by shooting, Kate already called 911,” she stated without taking her eyes off the patient.  
“Are you two alright,” he said, sounding concerned.  
“W-We are,” Vashchenko stuttered.  
Jurow used her free hand to check the boy’s pulse again, it was slow but it was still there. She relaxed a bit. After some time had passed she checked the wound again, the bleeding had stopped. She secured the gauze with a bandage and under the last wrap she placed the packaging of the hemostatic dressing, so the hospital would know she used it.  
Sirens were approaching, Jurow relaxed a bit and looked down at her bloody hands.  
She could not believe how she felt. He would live. It been a while she had seen this much blood, and the thrill to do what one had been trained for again. She really like it. She had missed it.  
***  
Jurow just stood there, watching how the boy was wheeled away on the stretcher while she took off her gloves.  
Kennex who was standing next to her, turned around to her. “You okay?”  
“Yes, I am,” she answered in a clear voice.  
He wrapped his arm around her. “No flashbacks? You know you can tell me.”  
“Nope,” Jurow exhaled. “No triggers present.” She turned around a bit further to give him a kiss.  
She heard how the doors of the ambulance were closed, steps were approaching them, so she pulled away.  
One of the paramedics, the one who was gonna drive, headed towards them, while taking off his gloves. “Thanks, for your help, doc. I think he has good chances, thanks to you,” he said.  
“Just doing what I can,” Jurow said.  
The paramedic extended his hand for a handshake. “I hope you have a nice day, doctor.”  
Jurow nodded and smiled briefly while they shook hands.  
Kennex glanced over at the cops in uniform, talking to Vashchenko. She still looked a bit startled. She was a civilian and of course acted like one.  
It was the first time she ever had seen someone get shot, in her entire life. Except in video games. This was real. But somehow it still seemed surreal.


End file.
